We emerge beneath a wooden bridge. The same purple hued water that I saw when we first entered yesterday flows beside us. I can see strange coloured fish swimming beneath the surface. A yellow frog with sparkling blue eyes leaps from a lily pad and into the stream. Beside the opening of the tunnel, the green firefly rests on a petal of the most beautiful red rose I have ever seen. It is huge, the size of a side-plate. I reach up to touch it, my fingertips grazing against the smooth velvety red of the petals. The firefly lifts off and disappears into the air. “Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?” I say, pulling the flower to my nose. The smell is divine.

“Not the most beautiful, no,” Ezra replies, his eyes smouldering. I feel my cheeks flush, but I don’t look away.

“Shall we?” he says after a moment.

I let the flower go, the scent lingering in my nose. “Okay.”

We walk out from beneath the bridge and up the mossy embankment. A gravel pathway leads to a gateway between two bent trees. Their trunks are twisted and gnarly, their branches joining together, curling around one another to form an arch above our heads. Ahead of us the pathway appears to lead into more forest, but I am not convinced. There is magic here, I can almost taste it. Ezra pulls on my hand and we walk through the gate. The moment we step inside, a city unlike I’ve ever seen unveils itself before us. There are dozens of buildings carved from white marble. Tiny green veins run through every surface, just like the vines that run through the earth beneath us, above us, and all around us. The buildings differ in size, but they are all beautiful and they all sparkle in the light. Trees grow out from every available gap, their canopies spreading out above us forming a natural roof. Abundant flowers trail across every surface. Some I recognise, like the white jasmine and purple clematis, some I don’t. But all are beautiful and alive. Lavender sprouts up from the floor in patches, and all around us fireflies swarm, lighting up the place in a multitude of colours. There are fae everywhere, the majority of whom are wearing robes not dissimilar to our own. Some have their hoods drawn up like us, others have theirs pulled back. Avery was right to lend them to us, no one gives us a second glance.

“This way,” Ezra says urgently. We walk across a large central square in the middle of which sits a bandstand built from a mixture of wood and marble. I wonder about the use of it, then I recall the memory Clover showed me of the people of Clan Terra singing in the fields. At least some of their traditions were not lost to the curse, it would seem.

“To the north of this square is an alleyway that leads through the back of the city. The inn we are looking for should be a few streets along from the point we pass through it,” Ezra says as we make our way across the square.

We move quickly, keeping our heads low. Ezra still has hold of my hand, he hasn’t let go from the moment we stepped out of the tunnel. As we make our way through the city streets, around us the fae talk, laugh. They seem happy, despite the curse and what it means for them. I see no sign of any sickness here. Nostra, Clover, Avery and Eldon, they all said that the forest was sick but from where I am standing this place looks far from it. More like alive, abundant even.

We pass through what appears to be the living quarters of the city. Single-story huts line the streets. These are wooden, rather than marble, but still very pretty. All of them are covered in more flowers, growing up the walls and over the roofs. I am tempted to look up, to see if there are more homes nestled amongst the trees, but to do so would risk being seen so I keep my head down.

“We’re here,” Ezra says after about five minutes. We are standing outside a double fronted wooden building. This one has two floors. It looks vaguely like a tavern you’d find in one of those western movies. I half expect a cowboy to come walking out. A nervous giggle explodes up my throat, garnering strange looks from some fae nearby.

Ezra pushes open the door and we enter. “What’s wrong with you? Do you wish us to get caught?” he hisses under his breath.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Nerves, I guess.”

Ezra lets out a breath. “I apologise, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Apology accepted,” I say, grinning under the cover of my hood. This is a first, Ezra apologising.

“So, how do we know which one is Solomon?”

“I’ll know when I see him,” I say, looking about the room. All the fae have their hoods pulled back. Clearly, wearing hoods up inside isn’t the done thing around here.

“Can I help you?” a voice says from behind.

Ezra squeezes my hand tightly within his. We turn. In front of us is the man Clover showed me an image of. “Are you Solomon?” I ask.

“That is me. And you are?”

“We are friends of Clover. She said that you would have rooms for us here,” I say, trying not to look at the fae nearest to us who seem very interested in our conversation.

Solomon’s eyes widen, but he recovers quickly, plastering a courteous smile on his face. “Ah, yes. I’ve been expecting you both. Your room has been prepared.” With that, Solomon turns on his feet and we follow him up to the second floor. As soon as we enter one of the rooms upstairs, he shuts the door, locking it quickly.

“You can remove your hoods. No need to hide from me,” Solomon says.

Ezra and I pull them down. Solomon’s mouth drops open.

“Well, if it isn’t Tolindo’s son. What a pleasant surprise.”

Ezra narrows his eyes at Solomon. “How do you know my father?” he demands.

“I know it has been a long time, Ezra. Perhaps I have aged a little since we last saw one another,” Solomon says as he pulls Ezra into a hug, his green eyes dancing in amusement. Ezra looks at me stunned, stiffening under his touch. The awkward, one-sided hug ends pretty quickly.

“You father, Tolindo, was my friend. It’s me, Sol,” he says tapping his chest.

I watch Ezra’s expression change from one of suspicion, to shock, then surprise before finally settling on happiness. “Sol? It’s been…”

“Over a thousand years. Yes, Ezra, it has. Come, sit,” he says, ushering us to a table in the corner of the room.

Ezra is looking in awe at Solomon. “The last time I saw you, I was a young man, no more than nineteen.”

Solomon laughs. “Yes, at the time your father said you had fallen in love and had no interest in anyone else but your new love. Is this her?” he says, turning to me. I feel my cheeks colour.

“No,” I say quickly. “Ezra and I are…” I falter, unsure how to describe our relationship.

“It’s complicated,” Ezra finishes for me. “The girl you speak of was my wife, Thalia. She was killed the day the curse was cast, alongside my daughter Roseanna.”

Solomon reaches across the table and squeezes Ezra’s hand. “I am sorry. We have all lost so much. Your father?”

Ezra shakes his head. “He died a year or so after you left for the southern lands. We tried to send word.”

“It seems there has been great loss in your life too. I am sorry for it.” Solomon wipes a hand across his face. The bee tattooed onto his cheek glistens under his touch. I wonder if it is some kind of fae magic.

“I had no idea you returned to Ever Vale,” Ezra says.

“The day before the curse was cast my family and I returned. We missed home.” Solomon shrugs. “We were drawn into the earth just like everyone else.”

“Your family are here now?”

Solomon shakes his head. “They are gone, claimed by the sickness that plagues this realm.”

Ezra’s face pales. “I am sorry.”

“This sickness you speak of…” I start, not sure how to continue.

Solomon looks me in the eye. “You look about this place and see all the wonderous things and wonder what sickness plagues these lands, am I right?”

“Yes. Clover said that she stays because this realm is sick, she believes she has the power to help. Yet, I don’t see any signs of sickness.”

“Believe me, the sickness is here. Your friend, Clover, she is the key to curing it.” Solomon takes my hand in his. “I wish I could say more, but I can’t. Please do not be offended, there are things we cannot speak of to those outside of Clan Terra,” he says apologetically.

“We’ve been told that too,” Ezra says. “But what of the sickness, though?”

Solomon sighs. “You passed through the upper forest, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“For almost one hundred years, the Forest above has been slowly dying. Did you notice how very quiet the forest is, the lack of wildlife?”

“Yes, I did. I just thought it was to do with the magic or something.”

“It is, in a manner of speaking. The animals left because they know the forest is sick, that it is no longer safe for them to live amongst it.”

Solomon notices my confusion. “You saw the vines, too?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“The fae king, he was once an elder member of Clan Terra. Before the curse he was a good man, wise for his relatively young years. When we first arrived, he took charge, became our leader. But just like the vines that bind us to this land, all these years trapped here has made him twisted. He believes that to break the curse we must sacrifice our people to the earth. My wife, my son, they were two of his victims. An argument between us led to their murder.” Solomon takes a deep breath. “His belief, and that of the fae who reside in the city, is that eventually Mother Nature will break the curse once enough sacrifices have been made to her. Anyone found wandering in the forest is captured and offered to the earth. Your friends Rhain and Devin, that is their fate now.”

“How will that break the curse?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

“It won’t. You see, the moment he began to sacrifice our people, the forest started to get sick. Murdering his own people is killing the forest. The fae king has caused this sickness, but no amount of persuasion will convince him that what he is doing is wrong. To truly understand what is happening and to find a cure, Clover must become fae. She is our only hope.”

“And what of the prophecy?” Ezra asks.

“The prophecy, Clover, the curse, this sickness, it is all tangled up together. When Nostra came to us, many people believed what he said. But the fae king refused to believe him. A division formed between the king and his loyal followers and those who believed Nostra. The king has been looking for the great tree for some time. Thank the blessed Mother, Nostra’s magic is as powerful as it is. The king has never been able to find it.”

Ezra leans back in his chair, swiping a hand through his hair. “This is indeed quite a problem you have.”

“Yes, and it is why I sent Avery, Jael and Eldon to Clover. Myself and a few others used our magic to spell them into saplings. It was the only way they could leave the Forbidden forest, find the missing daughter of Clan Terra and bring her back. But you are not here to listen to our worries. You are here to rescue your friends and I am going to help you do that.”

“How?” I ask.

“You entered through a door to our realm. On it was a flower. What was it?” Solomon asks.

“A rose.”

Solomon smiles. “Of course, that makes perfect sense.”

“It does?” Ezra asks, looking puzzled.

“Yes.” Solomon stands and walks to a low cabinet on the other side of the room. He opens a draw and pulls out a silver box, bringing it back to the desk with him. He slides open the lid. Inside are some wooden instruments and little pots of ink.

“What’s this for?”

“This is the key to getting you out. Do you trust me, Accacia?”

I look from Ezra to Solomon, then to the silver box on the table. “Clover sent us to you, she trusts you and I trust her.”

“Good, take off your cloak,” Solomon says, picking up a decidedly pointy looking implement.